


Swift as Wind, Soft as Shadow

by thegizka



Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Bad Flirting, Chuunin Exams, F/M, Family, Feelings, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-05-20 00:14:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19366447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegizka/pseuds/thegizka
Summary: In the chaos and the quiet, somehow they always found each other.Written for ShikaTema Week 2019.Note:  I do not own any aspects of Naruto.





	1. Part I:  Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a few years since the last chunin exams, and the Kazekage has a proposal for the Hokage that might end up being bothersome for a lazy Leaf shinobi and the Kazekage's sister.
> 
> Written for ShikaTema Week 2019 Day 1: Chunin Exam

Shikamaru was starting to get used to being summoned to the Hokage’s office alone.  As a genin, he had never cared much when he and his teammates were summoned to receive a mission assignment.  Things were different now that he was a chunin. Apparently the new rank meant he was responsible enough for solo missions or leading his own team.  Sometimes he was summoned simply to answer a question or give his opinion. Those meetings were always the most jarring. They felt like a waste of everyone’s time.  The Hokage had advisors like his father and Shizune, so she shouldn’t need the opinion of a kid like him. He was happy simply doing the grunt work of a shinobi, but this new Hokage was interested in incorporating him into her network.  It was a bit of a drag.

 

Shikamaru knocked and politely waited until he was bid to enter.  Lady Tsunade sat at her desk, piles of papers and scrolls arranged in some semblance of order before her.  Shizune stood holding Tonton behind her, and his father and Asuma stood before them.

 

“Ah, Shikamaru,” the Hokage greeted as though she hadn’t been expecting him.

 

“Lady Tsunade,” he returned, stepping forward.  His eyes glanced across his father and Asuma, trying to glean a sense of purpose from the two adults he knew best, but they gave no sign from their usual relaxed demeanors.

 

“Do you remember the last chunin exams?” Tsunade asked, not wasting any time.  Shikamaru’s eyes narrowed.

 

“They’re kind of hard to forget.”

 

“It’s been over two years, which is rather a long time to go without promoting any of our genin,” she continued.  “I have here a proposal from the Land of Wind asking to host a joint chunin exam with us.”

 

“This was their idea?”

 

“Yes.  I believe it’s an effort on the part of the new Kazekage to rebuild trust between our nations.”

 

“Or it’s a trap to get back at us for defeating them last time.”

 

“Several reliable sources in the Sand have confirmed that the Kazekage’s intentions are genuine,” Shikaku assured his son.

 

“Unfortunately, they also tell us that not everyone shares his views,” Asuma amended.

 

“Who is the new Kazekage anyway?”  He had heard rumors that the Sand had finally selected a new leader, but no official announcement had been made to the village.

 

“I believe you’ve met him,” Tsunade answered.  “Gaara, the Demon of the Desert.”

 

“Gaara?”  Shikamaru’s initial surprise settled into suspicion.  “Interesting choice, considering his history. I thought nobody in the Sand trusted him.  How did he become Kazekage?”

 

“He’s been working hard since the last chunin exams to repair relations amongst his people and the other nations.  Apparently something happened to him to give him a change of heart,” Shizune smiled.

 

_ Naruto… _   That kid had a natural talent for making others want to do better.  Gaara falling under his influence wasn’t impossible. The last time Shikamaru had seen the Demon of the Desert, right after the failed mission to bring Sasuke back to the village, he had seemed much more in control of his rage.  But it was hard to shake the impression of his bloodthirstiness from the chunin exams and the attack on the Leaf. Coming face-to-face with him in Lee’s hospital room and seeing the deep hatred and murderous intent in his eyes was scarred into his mind.

 

“Shikamaru,” Tsunade continued, bringing his thoughts back to the present, “I believe it is in the village’s best interest to agree to this proposal.  Not only is it an opportunity to show the other nations the strength of our young shinobi, but it will also help cement Gaara’s and my positions as relatively new Kage while drawing our nations into an alliance.”

 

“Plus it will give us the chance to better monitor the situation in the Sand in case it’s really unstable,” he surmised.

 

“Right,” the Hokage agreed, standing.  “Shikamaru, I’d like you to be the Leaf’s representative for these exams.”

 

“What?  Why me? I’ve only been a chunin for a few years.”

 

“Unfortunately most of our jonin and more experienced chunin have other assignments,” Shizune explained.  “We don’t have very many options to work with.”

 

“This assignment is about more than just proctoring the exam,” Shikaku added.  “You’d be leading our diplomatic relationship with the Land of Wind. It’s a big responsibility.”

 

_ Yeah, and a lot of work _ , he thought.   _ What a drag! _

 

“You are capable of reading the nuances of a situation and remaining aware of the big picture,” Tsunade explained.  “I know I can trust you to do what’s best for the village.”

 

His shoulders slouched in defeat.  The Hokage was entrusting him with a mission, and he could feel his father’s eyes as he waited for his answer.  As much as he didn’t want this responsibility, he knew he couldn’t to disappoint them.

 

“Alright,” he groaned, “I’ll do it.”

 

“Good,” Tsunade agreed, and he could tell she had known this would be the outcome as soon as she’d sent him the summons.  “In three days, you will meet the representative from the Sand at one of our outposts on the border to formally agree to host the exams.  I’m sending Asuma and a few other shinobi with as an honor guard, but it is important that we appear as non hostile as possible. This is meant to be an alliance, not an intimidation.  From there, I will leave it up to you and the Sand shinobi to determine where and how frequently you will meet to continue the preparations, though I will expect full reports after every meeting.  I want to know every detail that might tell us something about the state of the Land of Wind.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” he agreed halfheartedly.   _ Reports mean a lot of paperwork… _

 

Shizune handed him a scroll with some more details about the assignment, and then he was dismissed.  They watched him leave, slouching under the weight of this work with a hint of despair in his eyes.

 

“I hope we’re not expecting too much from him,” Tsunade sighed once the door had closed behind him.

 

“Don’t worry, he can handle it,” Asuma promised, bemused.

 

“Give him the right motivation,” Shikaku agreed, “and he’ll be just fine.”

 

\-----

 

Temari’s fingers drummed impatiently against her folded arms.  It was nearly noon, and there was still no sign of the group from the Leaf.  That made her nervous. What if they were preparing an ambush? They should have held this meeting on Wind territory, but Gaara was desperate to display measures of good faith between their nations.  In that vein of logic, he’d sent only her and Baki to this meeting. With just two of them, they’d be hard-pressed to escape if they were attacked. Gaara trusted the Leaf to reciprocate the good will, but the past few months had taught Temari not to trust anyone.

 

To say Gaara’s position as Kazekage was tenuous would be putting it lightly.  They couldn’t even be sure his guards were on his side, which had her and Kankuro constantly fretting about security risks.  Assassination attempts--unfortunately nothing new to them--remained startlingly frequent. And Gaara himself wasn’t making things easy.  He was careful to appear as non-threatening as possible to build trust, but in doing so, he often left himself exposed to attack. It was driving his siblings crazy trying to keep him safe.

 

“They’re going to be late,” Temari huffed.  She didn’t like being made to wait, especially when she thought this whole arrangement was a waste of her time.  There were plenty of other qualified shinobi who could play the part of exam coordinator. She ought to be back in the Sand coordinating missions and keeping an eye on Gaara’s enemies.  But the Kazekage had insisted she be the one to work with the Leaf, saying she was the only person he could trust to be aware of their situation and preserve his will in foreign diplomacy.  She knew he was trying to flatter her a little (which was a strange experience coming from a guy who used to threaten to kill her if he was upset), but he also had a point. She understood Gaara’s intentions and could represent him and their village loyally.  She had begrudgingly agreed to the assignment.

 

“Temari, relax,” Baki suggested.  “We have all day to work out this agreement.  It’s not a big deal if they’re a little late.”

 

“It’s rude,” she huffed, but she forced her fingers to stop their restless drumming.  She found it harder to relax now than when her littlest brother was a murder machine that might go on a rampage if you looked at him funny.  Baki, on the other hand, seemed more laid back. She suspected he’d felt like she did now back when he was one of her father’s advisors as well as the sensei of the Kazekage’s kids.  Now he had passed a lot of his responsibilities on to his pupils. She and Kankuro were the Kazekage’s new advisors, though they leaned heavily on Baki’s experience and advice. The rest of the council weren’t fans of handing so much power to a trio of teenagers, but they rarely showed their displeasure openly.  In some ways, she and Kankuro were proving themselves just as much as Gaara was.

 

“They’re here,” Baki observed.  Doing her best to brush off her stormy thoughts, Temari focused on the chakra signatures closing in on the outpost.  There were four, the typical number for a squad on assignment. That meant the party from the Leaf outnumbered them two to one.  She resisted the urge to grab her fan and strike an intimidating pose.

 

When they made it up the stairs to the meeting room, she was a little surprised that she recognized all of them.  Izumo Kamizuki and Kotetsu Hagane, chunin who often guarded the village gate. Asuma Sarutobi, son of the Third Hokage and former member of the Twelve Guardian Ninja.  And Shikamaru Nara, the lazy kid who embarrassed her during her own chunin exam but whose abilities she begrudgingly acknowledged. He always seemed to pop up when she had business with the Leaf.

 

“Sorry we’re late,” Asuma greeted, smiling disarmingly.  “I had some last-minute business to take care of in the village.”

 

Shikamaru rolled his eyes.  Evidently he didn’t think his sensei’s business was actually that important.

 

“No need to apologize,” Baki assured him.  “We barely got here before you did.”

 

It was a diplomatic lie.  Temari fought to keep her own eyes from rolling.

 

“Shall we get down to business?” Asuma asked, leading the way to a small table in the back of the room.  Izumo and Kotetsu remained by the door and window, standing guard.  _ Or waiting to signal for an ambush… _   Their presence didn’t make her feel any safer.  When had she become so paranoid?

 

“I trust you brought your copy of the agreement?” Baki asked.

 

“Of course.”  Shikamaru pulled a scroll out of one of the pockets in his vest and spread it on the table.  Baki did the same with an identical scroll they had carried with them from the Sand.

 

“As per the agreement worked out between our Kage,” Asuma summarized, pulling phrases from the contracts before them, “the Sand and the Leaf will share responsibility and authority in the next chunin exams, which will be held five months from today.  The Leaf will host the first portion, the Sand will host the second, and the final round shall be held on neutral territory between the two nations. All details will be negotiated between appointed representatives from each of our villages, with the Kazekage and Hokage having final authority.  Does this meet with your approval?”

 

“It does,” Baki agreed.

 

“And who is the Sand’s representative?”

 

“I am,” Temari declared.  “Temari of the Desert, daughter of the fourth Kazekage and sister of the fifth.”

 

She watched as Asuma wrote her name on the scrolls.

 

“And your representative?”

 

“Shikamaru Nara.”  He introduced himself simply, stifling a yawn.  Temari had suspected as much when she saw him here, though she was still a bit surprised.  He was notoriously lazy, and running the chunin exams would be a lot of work. Was he up to the task?

 

“Are we all in agreement then?” Asuma asked, glancing between the Sand shinobi.  Baki looked at Temari. She nodded, eyes on Shikamaru, daring him to back out like he had during their fight nearly three years ago.  He just shrugged.

 

“Sure,” he said, the epitome of indifference.  Her eyes narrowed. Working with him might get seriously annoying.

 

They signed the contracts, then shared a small lunch.  Asuma and Baki, more experienced with diplomatic small talk, carried most of the conversation.  Temari took the time to stew in her thoughts and observe Shikamaru as he picked at his food. She watched him with a mixture of frustration and fascination.  They hadn’t interacted much, but when they had, he managed to get under her skin. He always looked like he’d rather be anywhere else than where he was, even in the middle of battle, but she also knew he was sharply intelligent.  After all, he had nearly defeated her in their own chunin exams. He was craftier than he let on. She suspected even now he was listening intently to the conversation, interpreting secrets from what was said and what was concealed.

 

“It figures I’d be stuck with a crybaby like you,” she sighed.  If she had to work with him for the next five months, they’d better try and get along.

 

He glanced at her with his sharp, dark eyes, then shrugged, returning to his food.  “It’s a real drag, but basically I’m the only one with enough free time at the moment.  And when your Kage asks you to do something, you don’t say no.”

 

“Well don’t expect me to do your work for you.  I’m not exactly without other responsibilities, you know.”

 

“I figured,” he smirked.  “‘Daughter of the fourth Kazekage and sister of the fifth’, right?  Do you always put such emphasis on your lineage when introducing yourself?”

 

“There’s nothing wrong with being proud of your bloodline,” she huffed.  “Family histories are important in the Sand. You dad’s the advisor to the Hokage, right?  As his son, that’s something to be proud of.”

 

“Why?” he asked, grimacing a little.  “What my dad does has nothing to do with who I am.  I’m not my dad.”

 

“What about familial loyalty and pride?”

 

“You can be proud and loyal without making a point of it.  When you introduce yourself, you don’t need to include the whole history of your family, too.  Do you want people to judge you on the triumphs and mistakes of your ancestors? Because that sounds pretty messed up to me.  Why should people judge me on what someone else has done just because we share the same blood?”

 

Temari rolled her eyes.  He was stretching the point, and she was already tired of parrying his arguments.  Though she couldn’t help reflecting a bit on his words. When Gaara was unable to control his anger or the tailed beast inside him, she knew other people would look at her and Kankuro funny and distance themselves.  It wasn’t too significant since their father’s status as Kazekage shielded them somewhat from negative judgment, but the months after his death had shown her how unfair others’ opinions could be.

 

She shook her head, trying to get rid of these bothersome reflections.  They were nearly done with their lunch and would part ways soon. She was eager to return to the Sand and make sure everything was still in order.  She didn’t need to get tangled in thought webs crafted by a lazy crybaby.

 

When she glanced at him again, he was looking at her, almost as if he were trying to read her thoughts.  He turned away without saying anything, leaving her wondering what he was thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a little ambitious with the prompt for Day 1, so this chapter will end up being two parts.


	2. Part II:  Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With planning for the chunin exam well underway, the joint proctors try to work out exactly what their goals are.
> 
> Written for ShikaTema Week 2019 Day 1: Chunin Exam.

Two weeks after they signed the contract, Temari arrived alone in the Leaf.  They had decided the first step to planning was touring each location to determine how much work would need to be done to prepare for the exams.  In a few weeks, it would be Shikamaru’s turn to make the journey to the Sand. It would mean several days of travel. He was not looking forward to it.

 

He met Temari at the front gate so he could escort her to meet the Hokage and show her to the ambassadors’ lodgings.  Normally whoever was on gate duty would take care of it, but Lady Tsunade and his father had stressed the importance of building a good relationship with the Sand, stopping just short of ordering him be her personal escort while she was in the village.  It was a drag.

 

He was a little surprised when she arrived alone.  It wasn’t uncommon for foreign messengers to travel by themselves, but he had noticed at their last meeting how on edge and mistrustful she had been.  The situation in the Sand was likely more unstable than those in the Hokage’s office thought.

 

“Hi,” he greeted simply.

 

“What a warm reception,” she smirked.  He just shrugged.

 

“The Hokage figured you might like some company on the way to her office.”

 

“And she picked you?” Temari snorted.  “Was everyone else busy?”

 

He just rolled his eyes, already turning toward the big building tucked beneath the cliff from which the faces of the past Hokage watched over the Land of Fire.  Temari fell into step beside him.

 

“I trust your trip wasn’t too much trouble.”

 

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

 

He glanced at her, trying to tell whether she  _ had _ run into any trouble, but her features were carefully set.  He did note that there were extra snarls in her pigtails, and her shoes were dustier than usual, but he didn’t know her well enough to determine whether these were indicators of trouble or simply the wear of travel.  Either way, she was carefully scanning every face and building they passed as though looking for hidden enemies. He wondered if there was a tactful way to tell her that she could relax.

 

“How’s your friend doing?” she asked suddenly.  “I never asked.”

 

“Which friend?”

 

“The one who was in the operating room all night after that mess of a mission the last time I was here.”

 

“That was years ago.”

 

And years later, the memory still smarted.  Fresh after the invasion of the village and his promotion to chunin, Shikamaru’s first mission had ended in disaster.  Tasked with tracking down his classmate Sasuke and bringing him back to the village, he had made some poor judgments and nearly gotten his friends killed.  If Temari and her brothers hadn’t arrived to help, they probably would have died. Sasuke disappeared, Chouji nearly didn’t make it, and he had cried in front of his father.  Every memory associated with the event made him ashamed.

 

Temari, of course, was unaware of this.  Or maybe she had known that bringing up the past would bother him a bit.  He couldn’t read her very well.

 

“Chouji’s doing fine.  Everyone is.”

 

“And did you ever find Sasuke?”

 

He glanced at her sharply.  Did she know something about Sasuke?  For a topic of small talk, this one was awfully loaded.  Villages didn’t like discussing their rogue ninja unless they posed a serious threat.  Sasuke so far had simply disappeared, though he was likely with Orochimaru, the rogue sanin who had manipulated the Sand into invading the Leaf during the last chunin exam.  Shikamaru suspected whatever news they eventually got about Sasuke wouldn’t be good.

 

“No,” he answered bluntly.  She looked at him for a moment, trying to gauge the meaning of what he wasn’t saying.

 

“Hm,” she concluded.  She didn’t ask any more questions.

 

Their check-in with the Hokage was courteous but brief.  The piles of papers on Tsunade’s desk were higher than normal, and she seemed a bit preoccupied.  Shikamaru wondered if this was all a show for Temari’s benefit or there was actually something brewing in the village.

 

After leaving the Hokage’s office, he showed his guest to her room so she could drop off her pack and freshen up.  The ambassadors’ lodging was a small building off of the Hokage’s office shielded on one side by the cliff and on the other by a low wall.  Temari’s room was on the ground floor, and Shikamaru had taken a room down the hall so he could be on hand if she needed anything. Staying in the ambassadors’ lodging for a few days was a drag, but his parents had insisted he stay close to the Sand kunoichi.

 

While Temari took some time to get settled, Shikamaru ordered lunch and looked over some paperwork of his own.  He was proofreading Chouji’s report from a recent mission--his friend always left a few grammatical errors and never included enough detail--when Temari joined him in the common room.

 

“So what now?” she asked, standing over him with a hand on her hip.

 

“Now we eat,” he announced, sliding the report into a folder away from prying eyes.  He’d drop it off at the Akimichis’ later.

 

Rather than sit down at the table, he led her back outside and around the building to an outside door which granted access to the roof via a set of stairs.

 

“Is this really necessary?” she huffed as they climbed.

 

“It’s quieter up here,” he replied, stepping carefully onto the slightly sloped roof.  “It’s easier to talk.”

 

“We have things to talk about?”

 

“Uh, yeah.  Last I checked we’re proctoring the next chunin exam.”

 

“You’re proactively focusing on work?  I thought you were allergic to any sort of exertion.”

 

“Ha ha,” he laughed sarcastically as he settled onto the roof.  Temari took a moment to scan their surroundings before sitting beside him.  She was still guarded, though he noted that she had left her battle fan in her room.  “Here.”

 

She wrinkled her nose slightly when he handed her a takeout box, but she didn’t complain.  His mother would give him a lecture if she found out he gave the representative from the Sand takeout as her first meal in the Leaf, but he was much too lazy to cook anything and didn’t care to waste time at a crowded restaurant.  Plus he highly doubted diplomatic relations between their villages would fall apart over a simple meal. Temari didn’t strike him as that trivial.

 

Shikamaru let his thoughts drift as they ate, free and lazy like the clouds floating above them.  He loved meal times because they usually signified a break from having to think about work. He wasn’t expected to do anything or go anywhere.  He could be carefree for an hour or so.

 

Unless, of course, the company he was keeping was troublesome.

 

“So talk,” Temari said, disrupting the relaxed flow of his thoughts.  He had hoped she’d wait at least until they had finished their food. He should have known better.

 

“About what?” he stalled.  She let out a frustrated snort.

 

“About the chunin exam!  That’s why we’re up here on the roof and not somewhere more comfortable, right?”

 

He sighed.  He’d really been hoping for a few moments to relax.

 

“So?” she prompted.

 

“The written exam’s first, right?”

 

“Yeah,” she growled.  He was almost amused by how frustrated he was making her.

 

“I figured we’d hold it at the school, same as last time.”

 

“I hope you’re not planning on making it the exact same as last time.  Several candidates will be repeating the exam.”

 

“I know,” he sighed, rubbing his neck.  “We have to create a whole new test. It’s such a drag.”

 

“Have you come up with anything yet?”

 

“I have a few ideas.”  He picked through his food for a chunk of chicken, chewing slowly.

 

“Care to share?” Temari prompted when he didn’t continue.  With a sigh, he set aside his food container and laid back on the roof tiles.

 

“I want to divide up the members of each team and test how they work together when they have limited communication.  I just don’t know how yet.”

 

“You want to split up the teams but still expect them to communicate.  Doesn’t that make it impossible?”

 

“Not necessarily.  I just want to limit the advantage of certain jutsus.  Like with our test, visual and intelligence-oriented jutsus had an advantage.”

 

“But wouldn’t that be unavoidable even if we split up teams?  They can just copy from some of their competitors.”

 

“Not if the entire focus of the exam is to test teamwork within each three-person squad.”

 

“I don’t really see the point of that.  We don’t pass teams in the chunin exams; we pass individual shinobi.”

 

“But a lot of shinobi work involves cooperating in a team,” Shikamaru explained.  “You have to know who to trust and how to work together to complete a mission.”

 

“Those are largely circumstantial decisions,” she countered.  “Shinobi get reassigned to different squads all the time. It doesn’t matter who the other members on the team are as long as each does her job.  That’s how we complete missions.”

 

“Somewhere along the line you have to decide to trust the other people on your team to do their jobs, and if something goes wrong, you need to depend on each other to adapt and fix it.  No shinobi is totally independent.”

 

He watched as she mulled over his words, eyebrows pulled down over her teal eyes.  He wondered if she was arguing because she honestly believed teamwork wasn’t that important to a shinobi, or perhaps it was a reaction from not being able to trust people in the Sand.  He wondered if there was really a difference between the two.

 

“Even our own exam started with a whole team pass or fail on that last question,” he reminded her.

 

“That was just to thin the field more quickly,” she declared dismissively.

 

“But you had to know what your teammates would do.”

 

She turned her sharp eyes on him.  They were cruel and intelligent. Her look made him realize how little he actually knew her.

 

“Knowing what someone will do and trusting them have nothing to do with each other.”

 

\-----

 

Shikamaru was miserable, and Temari would be lying if she didn’t acknowledge that it amused her.  He tried to hide it to prevent any offence to his hosts, but it was a common enough reaction from emissaries to the Sand that she saw right through him.

 

She had found the rest of her trip to the Leaf boring.  The school was exactly as she remembered it from her own exam.  Shikamaru talked about sealing off the classrooms to make the test more difficult, but she didn’t really care about those details.  She didn’t understand why he was so preoccupied with the candidates’ relationships with their teammates, but if that’s how he wanted to run the written exam, then so be it.  In her eyes, the important part of the exam would start with the second round in the Land of Wind.

 

Originally she had been opposed to Gaara’s plan to use the exams as a way to lure out and take down his enemies.  It was risky not only because it meant using the Kazekage as bait, but it could also endanger relations with the other nations if their genin got caught in the conflict.  But Temari was also really tired of sleeping with one eye open, and Gaara was limited by his opposition and couldn’t effectively guide the Sand toward his dream of a better future.  They were stuck unless they could eliminate his enemies.

 

The real problem with the plan had been inviting the Leaf to co-host the exam.  They couldn’t have obtained the council’s approval without a partnership from another village, and it threw off any suspicions that they were using the exam to target their internal opposition.  Temari could only hope their plans wouldn’t backfire and make things worse.

 

She was nervous about having Shikamaru in the Sand.  She’d seen how he observed everything and knew he was drawing conclusions which he would no doubt communicate to the Hokage.  It would be tricky keeping the plan secret from him, especially as he was more talkative now than he had been in the Leaf. He seemed eager to know the details of every part of the second round.

 

“The Demon Desert, huh?”  He was leaning over a map spread across a table, scratching his hair where some sand was irritating his scalp.  “Isn’t the entire desert demonic?”

 

“For whiny crybabies like you,” she teased, trying to keep the mood light to mask the heaviness of her thoughts.  “The Demon Desert is more unpredictable than the rest. There are hidden quarries, fields of quicksand, and sandstorms that appear out of nowhere.  With limited natural resources, it’ll definitely challenge the genins’ endurance.”

 

“Sounds dangerous.”

 

“No more dangerous than the Forest of Death.”

 

“What safety measures will you have in place?”

 

“Safety measures?”  She shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on any.”

 

“But what if someone gets hurt or trapped somewhere?  Will there be medical-nin on standby?”

 

“As I recall, there weren’t any adults waiting to swoop in and help us during our exam.”

 

“And look how that turned out,” he responded, eyes narrowed.

 

She didn’t like the implication.  She and her brothers had a lot of blood on their hands, including some from those exams.  She was pretty sure adult intervention wouldn’t have stood much chance against Gaara.

 

“They won’t have anyone keeping an eye on them when they’re off on missions.  If we really want to test who has what it takes to be a chunin, we can’t hold their hands.”

 

“It’s not holding their hands if we’re keeping them alive so they have the chance to try again next time,” he argued.  “The purpose of these exams is to build up our villages’ next generation of shinobi, not lose half of them.”

 

“Death is part of a shinobi’s life.  Better to get them used to it sooner rather than later.”  She said it with more emotion than she intended, the words getting caught in her tightening throat.  Unpleasant memories were resurfacing. That made her angry. She wasn’t supposed to lose control and get emotional.  Emotions revealed too much, and she didn’t want Shikamaru to know the details of her past.

 

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said firmly.  She was sure he had noticed her control slip momentarily, but it seemed he wasn’t going to mention it.  She wasn’t sure whether that was a relief or not.

 

“We don’t have to run the exams like they have in the past,” he continued.  “Nothing changes if we keep doing everything the same way.”

 

She couldn’t tell him it was precisely  _ because _ she wanted things to change that they couldn’t increase supervision of the exam.  Gaara’s enemies needed the chance to slip in and try something in order to get caught.  The chaos of the second round had always been an opportunity to pursue secondary intentions, like the Sand and Sound’s maneuvers to invade the Leaf during the last exams.  They might be risking the lives of their genin, but doing so would allow Gaara’s dreams for the future to start coming true. It was a necessary risk.

 

“If they can’t survive by themselves, they shouldn’t take the exam,” she declared.  “If you have other questions, they can wait until tomorrow. I have some meetings to get to.”

 

“Temari, wait,” he called, clearly dissatisfied with her answer, but she said nothing and walked away.

 

\-----

 

Shikamaru awoke to the sound of someone knocking on his door.  That is, his reflexes awoke, pulling his body out of bed and reaching for his ninja tools.  His mind took a few moments longer to shake off the sleep.

 

“Shikamaru,” Temari hissed from the other side of the door.  That nearly made him relax, but the way she had refused to finish their argument earlier that day told him she was hiding something big.  It was also the middle of the night. The desert darkness pressed heavily against his window. Nothing good ever happened in the middle of the night.  Warily he cracked open his door and found Temari’s sharp, teal eyes in the dark hallway.

 

“Grab your things,” she ordered.  “We need to go. Now.”

 

“What’s happening?” he demanded.

 

“Don’t waste time with questions.  Move!”

 

She looked earnest.  Her clothes seemed to have been thrown on in a rush, and her hair was unbound.  A sliver of worry sliced her expression. He decided to trust her.

 

A minute later they were gliding down the hallway to meet up with Gaara and two Sand shinobi waiting for them.  The Kazekage was fully dressed and had his gourd slung across his back. Shikamaru wondered if he had slept at all tonight.

 

“Do you need me to stay?” Temari asked, but her little brother shook his head.

 

“Kankuro will take care of things here.  Let’s go.”

 

Shikamaru wanted to ask where and why, but they were already moving, and the sense of urgency was so great he thought it prudent to simply follow.  They raced down stairs and along hallways, taking so many turns he didn’t bother trying to keep track of their path. Then suddenly they were out in the open, far away from the Kazekage’s residence and the ambassadors’ quarters.  There must be secret tunnels under the city.

 

They stole through the empty streets, the eternal wind swirling dust around their feet.  They seemed to be heading for the massive wall that protected the village, but their route curved away from the narrow opening through which he had entered the Sand.  Instead, they ducked into a house and down into more tunnels. After more twists, turns, and stairs, they emerged into a large room. White ceiling lights illuminated a few tables and chairs.  A long, narrow window revealed they had climbed partway up the hulking wall into a network of secret rooms.

 

He waited with Gaara while Temari and the others checked the rooms further in.  After giving the all clear, the two Sand shinobi disappeared back into the tunnels to guard the way to the Kazekage.  With their departure, Gaara and Temari relaxed slightly. They chose a table towards the center of the room, leaning their weapons nearby and settling down to wait.

 

Shikamaru hesitated to join them, studying them for a moment.  Gaara had his elbows propped up on the table, lips pressed against his clasped hands as he contemplated his sister.  Temari was holding her hair back from her forehead and returning her brother’s earnest gaze. They seemed to be communicating together, but Shikamaru couldn’t read all of their thoughts.

 

“It was an assassination attempt, wasn’t it?”

 

“Yes,” Gaara confirmed, not bothering to dance around the subject for the sake of saving face.  He turned to meet Shikamaru’s eyes.

 

“This isn’t the first time,” the Leaf shinobi surmised.  His thoughts raced back to all recent interactions with the Sand, reworking interpretations under this new revelation.  He had suspected assassination threats existed, but repeated attempts were something else entirely. No wonder Temari was always watching her back.

 

She had closed her eyes and was taking deep breaths.  He felt sorry for her. All of the work she’d gone through to hide the true state of the Sand’s internal affairs was unravelling in this room.

 

“The chunin exams,” Shikamaru said, his eyebrows drawn low over his eyes as he thought.  “You’re using them to draw out your opposition to stop them.”

 

He saw Temari deflate further and knew he was correct before Gaara nodded.

 

“I apologize for keeping you in the dark,” the Kazekage said.  “The fewer people who know, the less likely our plans are to be ruined.  It was a risk I thought worth taking.”

 

On one level, it made sense, but such deception could destroy the alliance between their villages.  It not only endangered the participating genin, but proctors were also at risk. Based on the fact that they’d taken him with them as they evaded the assassins, Shikamaru was a potential target.  An ambassador dying in another village would definitely strain relations between allies and undermine a leader’s authority.

 

“I understand that you’ll have to report this to the Hokage,” Gaara acknowledged.  “I won’t ask you to withhold anything, but I would appreciate your discretion. And if possible, I would like to continue with the exams, if only to allow our genin the chance to prove themselves.”

 

“Understood,” Shikamaru replied, but he couldn’t make any promises before speaking with Lady Tsunade.

 

“Thank you,” Gaara said, closing his eyes and returning to his waiting position.

 

With a sigh, Shikamaru slid into a chair.  He let his head hang back so he was looking at the rough rock ceiling.  It was too late to have to sort through this mess. How would he tell Lady Tsunade their allies were willingly endangering shinobi from other villages because they themselves were threatened?  He believed Gaara meant well, but did that excuse the lies? He didn’t think the Hokage would destroy their alliance over this, but the elders might not react as favorably.

 

“Shikamaru.”

 

He sat up.  Temari had slid into the seat across from him.  He noticed the slight shadows under her teal eyes.

 

“Gaara’s the Kazekage.  He won’t ask the ambassador from another village for help.  Nor does he think he needs to. He has too much faith in people.”

 

“But you don’t.”  He finished the thought for her.  They sat there for a moment looking at each other.  The slight desperation in her eyes made him a little uncomfortable, but he was also somewhat relieved.  It was the most honest look she had given him.

 

Maybe he was too tired and not thinking straight.  Maybe his brain was trying to process too many things right now.  Maybe he was too shocked by how vulnerable she looked. It unnerved him.

 

“I won’t tell the Hokage unless I give you a head’s up first,” he promised.  “I’d rather give the Kazekage a chance to talk with her himself first.”

 

He wondered if this might count as betraying the village.  He had promised to report to Lady Tsunade. Withholding information that might endanger Leaf shinobi was a punishable offense.  But he hadn’t promised not to tell. If the situation worsened, he would reveal everything to the Hokage. That meant he’d have to keep a close eye on the situation, which was going to be a real drag.

 

The look of relief on Temari’s face, though, probably made it worth it.

 

“Thank you,” she whispered, reaching across the table to squeeze his arm briefly.  Then she left to join Gaara and Kankuro, who had just arrived looking disheveled and angry.  Shikamaru’s eyes lingered on Temari for a moment before he returned to staring at the ceiling.

  
_ What a troublesome woman _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My overall goal for these prompts is to explore some moments in Shikamaru and Temari's relationship that aren't necessarily covered in the manga or anime, so there will be significant time jumps. Just wanted to give y'all a head's up!


	3. Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Temari and Shikamaru clean up relations between their villages after the chunin exam, they find themselves in some unusual (but not unpleasant) social situations.
> 
> Written for ShikaTema Week 2019 Day 2: Family Dinner.

Gaara was nearly abducted and they had to cancel the exams partway through the second round, but overall things had worked out well.  Gaara’s opposition had been silenced, several of their genin would receive promotions to chunin, and things in the Sand were settling down.  Temari was getting used to sleeping through the night again.

 

Of course, there were lots of explanations and apologies to deliver to the other villages.  Shinobi from the Sand were carrying hand-written scrolls from the Kazekage to all participating villages, as well as feedback from the proctors regarding each candidate’s performance.  It had been a pain to review every genin who made it to the second round, but it was probably the least Temari could do considering her and her brothers’ plan had disrupted yet another chunin exam.

 

She, of course, had been sent to the Leaf with their documents.  She could have stayed with her brothers, but she wanted to add her own personal apology for deceiving their allies.  She also wanted to prevent Shikamaru from getting into trouble, if possible. She owed him for letting them handle the unrest in the Sand themselves.

 

“Thank you, Temari,” the Hokage said.  “I accept your apology, and I appreciate your perspective regarding our participating genin.  I was a little worried I’d have to depend solely on Shikamaru’s feedback, which is likely to be biased in favor of his friends.”

 

Temari smirked at him, and he rolled his eyes.  They all knew he wasn’t the type to go easy on someone because they were friends.

 

“And as far as I’m concerned, the alliance between the Leaf and the Sand still stands.  I only wish I’d been let in on the situation beforehand. We might have been able to help with your predicament.”

 

“Apologies, Lady Hokage,” Temari bowed.  “It was Sand business, and we believed it had best stay amongst the Sand.  We weren’t sure who we could trust.”

 

“I hope now you know that you can trust your allies,” Tsunade smiled.  “And I understand why you did what you did. Honestly, I  _ am  _ a little surprised you didn’t know about any of this, Shikamaru.”

 

“Well, you know,” he shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.  “There was a lot of other things going on with the exams and everything.  I had a lot on my mind.” He looked sufficiently sheepish to hide his involvement.  Not that it had really been involvement. He had simply kept their secret and let them enact their plan unopposed.

 

“Well I hope you’re more attentive on your other missions,” Tsunade teased, secretly telling them she wouldn’t pursue any guilt by association.  Temari wondered if she’d be this lenient if the plan had gone awry. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some reports to review.”

 

Temari and Shikamaru bowed and took their leave.

 

“She definitely saw right through you,” Temari smirked as they traversed the hallways on their way out.  She knew the route by now, but it was still nice to have company.

 

“She’s the Hokage.  I’d be a bit worried if she hadn’t.”

 

“She’s not what I expected when I heard the new Hokage was one of the legendary sannin,” Temari confessed.  “She’s a lot more mellow than I thought she’d be.”

 

“Yeah?”  He looked at her ruefully.  “You haven’t seen her when she’s angry.”

 

Temari chuckled and let their conversation lapse into comfortable silence.  She wasn’t sure if it was the relief of their plan succeeding or the rapport built on five months of working together, but Temari felt incredibly comfortable around Shikamaru.  She was also getting used to the Leaf, which was advantageous to her new official position as ambassador to the village. If the Sand had any business with their ally in the Land of Fire, she’d get to know all about it.

 

“Do you need to grab anything before we head over?” Shikamaru asked as they stepped out into the evening sunlight.

 

“Assuming I don’t need my fan, I’m good to go.”

 

“Just as long as one of us is,” he sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

 

“What do you have to worry about?” she scoffed, following him through the streets crowded with people heading home from work or out to dinner.  The volume of people in the streets reminded her somewhat of the Sand’s bazaar on market days, but this crowd was typical in the Leaf. “Isn’t this run-of-the-mill for you?”

 

“Do  _ you _ have dinner with the official ambassadors of foreign villages regularly?”

 

“Yes, actually.  Kazekage’s sister, remember?”

 

“Oh right,” he sighed, and she chuckled.  He must really be preoccupied to miss something so obvious.

 

“So is there anything I need to know ahead of time?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Any topics of conversation I need to avoid?”

 

“Besides village secrets?  No.”

 

“What’s on the menu?”

 

“Dunno.”

 

“You better not be planning any surprises,” she warned.

 

“Temari, it’s a family dinner.  There’s literally nothing I could do to surprise you without getting yelled at by my mother.  You’re safe.”

 

She raised an eyebrow.  Mr. Smarty-Pants could probably come up with a prank that wouldn’t land him in trouble.  But he did seem preoccupied with something else. She was probably safe.

 

They walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence.  She had passed by the Nara district a few times but rarely stepped foot on the grounds.  Tucked on the edge of the village, a cluster of homes hovered on the verge of a deep forest.  A pair of massive oak trees served as honorary gate posts, but no other boundary separated their land from the rest of the Leaf or the Yamanaka and Akimichi territories which hugged the Naras with adjacent territory.

 

It was pretty quiet here.  The bustle of the village faded to the softer sounds of the district.  In the distance, a mother called her brood to dinner. Friends chatted as they walked home after work.  A few couples sat on their porches enjoying the evening. They nodded and smiled as they passed.

 

Their destination was a house tucked close to the woods, its back door only a handful of yards from the tree line.  It was no different than any of the other Nara properties save for its age. If she had simply been passing by, she would never have guessed it housed the head of the clan and Hokage’s advisor.

 

“We’re here,” Shikamaru called as he pulled open the door, holding it as Temari entered.

 

“I’ll be out in a moment,” a voice called from one of the rooms further inside.  They slipped off their shoes, and Shikamaru led the way through the halls. The rooms they passed were cleanly furnished.  A few pictures adorned the walls. Shikamaru’s family seemed to like simplicity.

 

“Welcome!” a dark-haired woman, the owner of the voice from earlier, greeted as she stepped out of a nearby room.  “I’m Yoshino, Shikamaru’s mother. You must be Temari.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Temari bowed.   “Thank you for inviting me into your home.”

 

“Oh of course!  It’s an honor to have the ambassador from the Sand come for a visit.”  She turned to her son. “Your father’s not with you?”

 

He shrugged.  “He wasn’t at the office.  I think Lady Tsunade had him checking into a few things this afternoon.”

 

“Checking into things, huh?”  A calculating look flashed across her face.  “Well he’d better not be late, or we’ll start dinner without him.  Temari, come in and make yourself comfortable. Shikamaru, you can set the table.”

 

Temari bit back a smirk at the grumpy expression he pulled at having to do work.  She hovered by the low table as he gathered plates and bowls from a nearby armoire.

 

“Is there any place in particular I should sit?”

 

“Wherever you’d like.  It’s dinner, Temari. It’s not like we have assigned seating.”

 

She rolled her eyes, but ended up sitting facing the back wall whose sliding door was open to let the cool evening air inside.  She could see the woods a few yards away from the porch. A path wound away from the steps between the trees and disappeared. She wondered if it led to the clan shrine.

 

“You’re setting everything crooked,” she observed as Shikamaru placed bowls, plates, and chopsticks in front of her.  “You should be more careful. A less benevolent guest might think you were trying to insult her.”

 

“Yeah right,” he scoffed as Temari straightened the place settings.

 

“I always tell him the same thing,” Yoshino called from the kitchen.  “He’s just like his father--too lazy to pay attention to the details.”

 

“Maybe we have other things to concern ourselves with,” he muttered.

 

“You should focus on what you do in the moment, not whatever daydreams or shogi moves you’d rather think about,” his mother tsked.  “Just because something is ‘a huge drag’ doesn’t mean it’s not important.”

 

“I know Mom,” he sighed with an air that suggested he’d received this lecture before, but he helped Temari straighten the rest of the place settings.

 

“I hope he wasn’t this negligent when he was working with you on the chunin exams, Temari.”

 

“He did drag his feet some of the time,” she replied honestly, “but it wasn’t too bad.”

 

“Huh?”  His mother stuck her head out of the kitchen to frown at him.  “Haven’t you learned to do your work by now? Honestly, the fact that they made you a chunin still baffles me.”

 

“Sometimes it baffles me, too,” he muttered.

 

“I’ve been trying to convince him to take the exam for jounin,” Temari said.  Yoshino blinked for a moment, then burst out laughing.

 

“He won’t take the exam because a higher rank would mean more work, and he’s practically allergic to any exertion.”

 

“There’s plenty of work to do as a chunin,” Shikamaru grumbled.  “I can still help the village without being a jounin.”

 

“But a village also needs skilled jounin to guide the other ranks and serve as the Kage’s right hands.  If you have the abilities, it’s your duty to serve in the best possible capacity. Otherwise what are you doing as a shinobi?”

 

“She’s got you there,” Yoshino chuckled, ducking back into the kitchen to finish dinner.”

 

“Troublesome women,” Shikamaru muttered, collapsing into the seat next to Temari.

 

“We’re only ‘troublesome’ because you know we’re right,” she teased.  “You’re causing all the trouble yourself by not manning up and taking the test.”

 

“The Hokage doesn’t need a kid like me pretending to be in charge,” he scoffed, taking off his chunin vest and tossing it against the wall behind him.

 

“Shikamaru, pick that up and put it away properly!” Yoshino ordered.  He sighed dramatically but got up, took his vest, and walked out of the room to hang it up by the door.

 

“Honestly, between him and his father, I have my hands full trying to keep things in order,” Yoshino sighed, leaning in the kitchen doorway.

 

“It’s a good thing you’re here to keep an eye on things,” Temari agreed.  “They’d be a real mess otherwise.”

 

“I’m just waiting for Shikamaru to finally grow up and get married so I can stop babysitting him, though I pity the girl who will have to take over that role.  He can be a real handful.”

 

“I know what you mean.  My brother can be a real mess, too.”

 

“Really?  But he’s Kazekage now.”

 

“No, my other brother,” Temari chuckled.  “Though Gaara comes with his own set of complications, too.”

 

“Of course.  I suppose we all do.  We women just seem better at sorting through it all.”

 

They lapsed into thoughtful silence just in time to hear the front door open and close and a low murmur of voices.

 

“Dad’s home,” Shikamaru announced as he padded back into the dining room.

 

“Good, it’s about time,” Yoshino said briskly.  “Help me carry the food in here so we can finally eat.”

 

“Can I help with anything?” Temari asked, already preparing to stand.

 

“The two of us should be fine,” Yoshino called over her shoulder, “assuming Shikamaru doesn’t drop anything.”

 

“When have I ever dropped anything?”

 

“Remember Chouji’s birthday two years ago?  Or that bowl of ramen when we were treating Naruto to dinner that one time?  Or-”

 

“Okay, okay!  Those were all just accidents.  They happen,” he groaned as they returned to the dining room.  He rolled his eyes when he saw Temari dying of silent laughter.

 

“Hey, you better be focusing on what you’re doing,” Yoshino warned.  “I don’t need any ‘accidents’ after all the trouble I went through to make this food.”

 

“Ah, looks like I got home just in time.”  Shikaku stepped into the room, a relaxed grin on his face as he approached his wife to say hello.  The stern look she gave him, though, stopped him.

 

“You’re late,” she grumbled.

 

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.  Shikamaru must have inherited the habit from him. “I was finishing up some work.”

 

“Then you should have let me know ahead of time.  It’s the least you can do, especially when we are expecting guests.”

 

“Oh right.  Sorry Temari,” he apologized again.

 

“That’s alright.  I understand how the work of a village can catch you unexpectedly.”

 

“You don’t have to try and make him feel better.  He’s a grown man. He can take the consequences of his actions.”

 

“That’s super neat, but we really don’t need to watch you two flirting when we’re hungry and there’s food right in front of us,” Shikamaru grumbled as he plopped back into place at the table.

 

“Excuse me?”  Yoshino turned her steely expression on her son.

 

“Uh, sorry.”

 

“Honestly, sometimes I really don’t know what to do with you two,” she sighed, sitting down.

 

Dinner with the Nara family was a new experience.  The food was delicious and the company was pleasant.  Temari saw a lot of similarities between Shikamaru and his father, but his strong sense of obligation seemed to come from his mother.  It was interesting to see them interact.

 

They were welcoming in their conversation and generous with their attention.  They asked about the Sand, the chunin exams, her brothers, and her interests. This was a social visit so they avoided discussing work, but she was careful when she spoke about her home and family in case anything she shared might tarnish their villages’ alliance.  It was hard to not to be a diplomat when sitting across from the Hokage’s advisor.

 

“Can we get you anything else?” Yoshino asked while clearing away dishes.  “Some tea? Shikaku might have a few sweets stashed away somewhere.”

 

“Thank you, but I don’t think I could manage another bite.  That was delicious!”

 

“Do you play shogi?” Shikamaru asked.  “Dad and I usually play a few games after dinner.”

 

“Sorry son, but I don’t have time tonight,” Shikaku announced.  “I have a little work to finish up.”

 

“More work?”  Yoshino frowned as she returned to collect more dishes.  “I thought you were trying to cut back on your hours.”

 

“A village doesn’t only run from nine to five, honey.”

 

“Well Temari, you’re welcome to stay and hang out with Shikamaru and me.”

 

“Thank you, really, but I should probably head out.  I have an early departure tomorrow.”

 

They stood, Shikamaru stretching a little, and made their way to the front door.

 

“It was a pleasure having you to dinner, Temari,” Yoshino smiled.  “You’re always welcome to come over when you’re in the village.”

 

“Thank you, that’s very generous.”

 

“When will you be home?”  She turned her attention to her husband, who shrugged.

 

“Before midnight, if all goes well.”

 

“This better not be a cover to go out drinking with Inoichi and Chouza.”

 

“Of course not!”  He looked wounded.  Temari got the impression that he might have been guilty of this before.

 

“Make sure Temari gets back safely,” Yoshino instructed her son as he slid open the door.

 

“I’m pretty sure she can take care of herself, Mom.”

 

“That’s not an excuse to not do your part as host and gentleman!”

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he sighed.

 

Temari waved goodbye to the Nara matron, and they set out back into the heart of the village.  She had watched the encroachment of the evening sky through the back door while they ate. The late hour had also encouraged villagers to return to their homes so their route was much less crowded than before, though several restaurants were spilling their aromas and the sounds of happy guests into their path.  They walked on in silence. Temari was full, but she felt lighter than she had in a while. Tonight’s dinner had boosted her spirits in ways she hadn’t expected.

 

Shikaku stopped outside of a dumpling restaurant.

 

“We’ll part ways here,” he announced.  “Temari, it was nice to see you in a context other than village politics.”

 

“Agreed.”

 

“Mom will really drag you if you’re just going out to drink,” Shikamaru warned, eyeing the dumpling restaurant suspiciously.

 

“You don’t have to tell me.”  Father and son exchanged a look before Shikaku ducked into the restaurant.  With a sigh, Shikamaru relaxed marginally and they continued towards the ambassadors’ lodging.

 

“Sorry you had to endure all of that.”

 

“What do you mean?” she asked, bemused.  “I had a good time tonight.”

 

“Really?”  He looked at her as if she was crazy.

 

“Yeah, your parents were really nice.  I mean, I already kind of knew what to expect from your dad, but your mom is pretty remarkable.”

 

“I should’ve expected it,” he muttered, looking up at the stars in an act of surrender.

 

“What?”

 

“That you and my mother would get along so well.”

 

“She and I have similar sensibilities.”

 

“Huh.”  They walked on in momentary silence.  She could feel his gaze as he glanced at her.

 

“What is it?”

 

“So you really did have an alright time?”

 

“Yeah.  It was different, but in a nice way,” she said carefully.  He waited for her to say more. “It’s been a while since I’ve had dinner with a full family present.  I don’t remember much from when my mother was around, and the family meals I do remember when my brothers and I were old enough to feed ourselves aren’t the warmest.  Your family’s weird,” she smiled, “but you guys get along and are warm.”

 

“We’re warm?  What even does that mean?” he chuckled as he held the door to the lodging open for her.

 

“You know, welcoming and happy.  I get the impression that you guys actually like each other.”

 

“Hm.”  He followed her down the hallway so he could lean against her doorway.  “Well fair warning, my mom will probably insist you come visit next time you’re in the village.”

 

“Then I’ll be sure to work her into my schedule.”  She pushed open her door a few inches. “I don’t suppose you’ll be up tomorrow when I leave.”

 

“What time are you leaving?”

 

“Early.”  She shrugged.  “A little past dawn.  I’m having breakfast on the road.”

 

He chuckled.  “Yeah, I don’t know that I’ll be up that early.”

 

“I figured.”  She smirked to hide the sliver of disappointment.  “I’ll see you sometime then.”

 

He pushed himself off the wall as she stepped into her room.  “Goodnight Temari.”

 

“Goodnight.”

 

\-----

 

Shikamaru stood in front of the Kazekage, itching the back of his ankle with his foot.  He still didn’t like trips to the Land of Wind. The desert was a pain to navigate, the sand seemed to get everywhere, and he’d feel itchy for days after his return to the Leaf.  But sometimes physically visiting their allies was necessary, and they really couldn’t expect Temari to do all of the traveling back and forth.

 

“The Hokage has been busy,” Gaara sighed, finally rolling up the scroll he had been studying.

 

“There has been a lot to do lately,” Shikamaru agreed.

 

“You shall have to pass on my thanks to her for keeping me informed on the rumors surrounding Orochimaru’s movements.  No doubt it is difficult to recognize a former friend as an enemy. I hope you don’t mind if I reflect on the news and write my reply tomorrow morning.”

 

“That’s fine.  I wasn’t planning on leaving until the afternoon.”

 

“Alright.”  He straightened some other papers on his desk and then stood.  “Shall we head out, then?”

 

“I’m ready if you are.”

 

“Yes.  I don’t think I can focus long enough to get anything else done.”

 

Gaara led the way out of his office, past the guards keeping watch outside, and down the halls from the business portion of the Kazekage’s residence to the personal quarters.  Very few people knew the correct turns and trick passages to follow to get access to the family rooms. Sand special ops patrolled strategic points along the route for security.  Shikamaru did his best not to remember the way in case he was never invited back.

 

It was rare for any shinobi to be invited inside the Kazekage’s personal residence and even more unusual for it to be one from a foreign village.  He would almost feel privileged except tonight’s visit was simply at Temari’s insistence. Apparently dinner with his family had made enough of an impression that she demanded she and her brothers return the favor.  It was a complicated situation, which made it a drag, but there was no stopping her when she’d made her mind up.

 

Gaara paused outside what Shikamaru assumed was the final door before their destination.

 

“Prepare yourself,” he suggested before pushing the door open.

 

The Kazekage residence was warmer than he had expected.  The stone walls were as golden as the desert sun. The rooms were spacious and brightly lit.  A murmur of voices drifted through the hallways. Gaara led the way towards the sounds.

 

“Here, taste this.”

 

“No, you gotta wait until I’m done flipping these.”

 

“Make it quick.  I have a limited window to adjust the spices.”

 

“You can’t rush perfection.”

 

“Well if you don’t hurry up, I’m dumping fistfuls of peppers in here.”

 

“Hang on, I just have one left.”

 

“Five...four...three...two…”

 

“Okay hand me the spoon…  Mm, yup, more peppers.”

 

“How many more?”

 

“Just a few.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Gaara and Shikamaru poked their heads into the kitchen.  Temari and Kankuro were tag-teaming food production, passing each other ingredients and offering extra hands when needed.  They moved with a synergy that suggested they did this often.

 

“It smells good,” Gaara observed in greeting.

 

“Oh good, you’re here!”  Kankuro leaned around his sister to eye the newcomers.  “I was worried I’d have to send someone to pull you from your office.”

 

“I had an eye on the time.”

 

“How was the trip?” Temari asked Shikamaru as she glanced at him between monitoring the dishes.

 

“Same as usual.”

 

“Still not used to the desert, huh?” she snickered.  “Well I’m glad you survived.”

 

“Yeah, it’d have been a pain to go through all this work for dinner only for you to die in transit.  But since you’re here, why not make yourself useful and help Gaara set the table,” Kankuro ordered. “We can’t have you distracting us in the kitchen.”

 

“Why don’t  _ you _ go set the table?” Temari suggested.  “Shikamaru’s our guest. We can’t put him to work.”

 

“It’s fine.  I’m pretty useless in a kitchen anyway.”  Shikamaru followed Gaara into the dining room.  He got the impression that Kankuro was looking to push his buttons, and he didn’t have the energy to bother right now.

 

Remembering the berating he’d received when he set the table the last time he and Temari shared a meal, he was careful to position the bowls and plates precisely.  Gaara hung up his Kazekage robe and hat near the door before gesturing towards a spot near one of the walls.

 

“They’ll likely be a few minutes yet,” he said, listening to his siblings’ murmuring voices.  “I hear you’re a fan of shogi. I’m not much of a strategist, but we could play while we wait.”

 

“Sure, if you’d like.”  He was curious to know how the Kazekage played.  He suspected his humility disguised his true skill.

 

Gaara was quiet when he played.  Unlike Shikamaru’s father and sensei who liked to use the strategy of the game to discuss what was on their minds, the Kazekage seemed to focus entirely on the board and its pieces.  Shikamaru took equal time studying the gameplay and his opponent’s face, trying to detect his thought process, but he could see nothing beyond the blank mask in which he set his features.  The secrets of the Sand were safe with him.

 

Shikamaru, however, had more experience with the game.  He more easily translated his will into moves. He tried to leave slight openings for Gaara to use, if only to keep the game going until dinner was ready, but he was set up to win after the first three turns.

 

“Okay you two, dinner’s ready,” Temari announced as she and Kankuro brought the food in from the kitchen.

 

“I hope you like it spicy,” Kankuro warned with a smirk.

 

It really was spicy.  Curry over rice, dumplings with spiced filling, and barbeque chicken had Shikamaru’s eyes watering after one bite.  He did his best to hide it, but he could see the laughter dancing in Temari’s and Kankuro’s eyes. They just watched him, casually gulping down mouthfuls of what felt like pure fire as though their insides weren’t being devoured by the spices.  Gaara was also unaffected by the food, but he had the decency to pretend not to notice their guest’s discomfort.

 

Death food aside, he was somewhat surprised by how playful the dinner conversation was.  The older siblings seemed to feed off of each other’s energy and were quick to tease anyone who left themselves open.  Gaara was generally more quiet, but he could be absolutely ruthless. Whenever he unexpectedly whipped out his sense of humor, the other two nearly lost their minds--particularly when it was at Shikamaru’s expense.

 

For his part, he mostly rolled his eyes and observed, particularly Temari.  He had never seen her so relaxed and genuinely happy. She was less guarded, and he could see a sparkle of joy in her eyes while she and her brothers were getting along.  It was almost mesmerizing, but he was careful not to be caught staring in case she got the wrong idea.

 

They took pity on him for dessert and served a sweet custard pudding to soothe his aching palette.  Then as Kankuro and his sister cleared the dishes and brewed some tea, Shikamaru and Gaara finished their game of shogi.

 

“You really are good at this,” Gaara observed as Shikamaru took his king, bringing the game to a close.

 

“You put up a good fight.  I’m guessing I just have more experience.”

 

“Have you played Temari yet?” Kankuro asked, returning from another room and dumping an assortment of metal pieces on the table, earning a reproachful look from his sister.  “She almost always wins when she plays.”

 

“Only because my opponents rarely have the patience to play properly,” she explained.  “And you’d better not be working with poisons at the table!”

 

“I’m not!  Do you see any poisons?”  He spread his hands to indicate the pile before him.  It looked like junk to Shikamaru. “Obviously these are just joints and stabilizers.  Honestly Temari, what do you take me for?”

 

“An idiot,” she announced truthfully.  Gaara hummed in amusement.

 

“Temari,” Kankuro whined, feigning hurt.  “I thought better of you.”

 

“Just calling it as I see it,” she smirked, catching Shikamaru’s eye for a second as she took a sip of tea.

 

“I’ll keep an eye on him if you’d like to play,” Gaara offered, standing.

 

“I don’t know if I can trust you after the last time.”  She turned her suspicion on her youngest brother.

 

“I promise we won’t break anything.”  He looked innocent and earnest. She studied him for a moment before sighing and moving to take his place across the board from Shikamaru.

 

“I see how it is,” Kankuro grumbled.  “And here I thought  _ I _ was your favorite brother.”

 

“Shut up and play with your dolls.”

 

“These ‘dolls’ are highly precise weapons of war that could kill you fifty different ways before you even had time to blink!”

 

She just rolled her eyes, turning her attention to the board and its pieces while her brothers bent over the assortment at the table.

 

“You can go first,” she announced.  “You’ll need the advantage.” The playful look in her eyes was sharp and cunning.

 

Shikamaru didn’t want to argue.  He was just as likely to succeed as to fail if he went first, especially against an opponent with the caliber of cunning that Temari had.  He carefully studied the pieces. There were hundreds of first moves which would spiral into an infinite number of possibilities for the game’s result.  Which would lead to success? How was Temari likely to respond? He glanced at her. She was watching him with a self-satisfied smirk. The corner of his mouth twitched in response.  This was going to be an interesting match.

 

He made a move.  After a brief moment of studying, she moved in response.   _ Interesting… _   He shifted another piece.  She did likewise. He ran through a list of possible scenarios in his mind and selected another move.

 

“You look so serious,” Temari hummed as she made her move.  “It’s just a game.”

 

“Is it?”  He quirked an eyebrow.  She studied him before looking back at the board.

 

“What else would it be?”

 

He shrugged, ending his turn.  In his experience, shogi matches were rarely just a game.  They were an opportunity to say things indirectly. He wondered if Temari was trying to tell him anything as she moved her pieces.

 

“It could be a rematch,” he suggested.

 

“From our chunin exam?”  She smirked. “I hope you’re ready to get your butt kicked again.”

 

“Strong words from someone who only won because her opponent forfeited.”

 

“What does that say about you?  You’re the one who quit.”

 

“I guarantee I will last a lot longer this round.”

 

He watched her carefully as she looked at him sharply, documenting every microscopic shift in her expression as she tried to work out what he meant.  It was satisfying to see he had thrown her off guard a little.

 

“Well,” she said carefully, a sly look returning to her eyes, “I’ll still outlast you.”

 

“Is that a fact?”

 

“It’s a threat,” she promised with that enticingly cruel smile of hers.  It took Shikamaru a moment to tear his gaze away and redirect it to the board.  She was trying to back him into a corner in more ways than one. But he wasn’t one to fall for a trap.

 

“I guess we’ll see if you have the stamina to back up your words.”  He moved a piece. She’d have difficulty getting out of this unscathed.

 

“Oh trust me,” she hummed, barely glancing at the board before selecting a piece and deftly avoiding his trap.  “I always make good on my threats.”

 

“Hm.”  She must be starting to get to him.  He didn’t usually leave openings in his gameplay like he just had.  Shikamaru tried to pull his thoughts back from the wild tangents they were pursuing to focus on the shogi board.  He’d never hear the end of it if he lost to her again.

 

Luckily fate--in the form of Temari’s brothers--intervened.  Something zoomed between the opponents, hitting the shogi board and scattering pieces everywhere.  The object, which looked something like a fist with a knife protruding from the knuckles, was attached to metal cables which led back to the table where Kankuro and Gaara were looking at it with wide, surprised eyes.

 

“Uh, oops?”

 

“Kankuro!” Temari scowled.

 

“I didn’t expect it to shoot!”  He held his hands up in surrender.  “I just forgot I didn’t have the safety clasp on.  Or installed in the first place.”

 

“And I suppose you forgot too?” she demanded, turning her accusatory eyes to her youngest brother.

 

“I’m not the puppet master,” he reminded her with impish innocence.

 

“Gee, thanks bro.  Go ahead, throw me in the line of fire,” Kankuro pouted.

 

“I don’t know why I keep expecting you two to grow up and behave.”  She sighed before turning her exasperated eyes to Shikamaru. “Sorry.”

 

“It’s alright,” he chuckled, itching the back of his head.  “I should probably get going anyway. It’s getting late.”

 

“Too bad I didn’t get to beat you before we were so  _ rudely _ interrupted.”  She shot her brothers another scathing look, but they were suddenly absorbed in examining another mechanism in the pile.

 

“I guess we’ll just have to find another time to go another round,” he said casually as he stood and stretched.

 

“Is that a promise?” she asked, the dangerous look back in her eyes.  It made him grin.

 

“It’s a threat.”


	4. Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naruto saved Gaara, and Sakura saved Kankuro. Besides a little rebuilding, the situation in the Sand should be stable. So why does Shikamaru feel that he needs to visit their allies in person?
> 
> Inspired by ShikaTema Week 2019 Day 3: Eyes.
> 
> Note: I do not own any aspect of Naruto.

Shikamaru made the trip to the Sand in record time, spurred on by a deep and urgent sense that he needed to be there as soon as he could.  In reality, he himself had no purpose to go. Any other shinobi could deliver the Hokage’s message, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this time, he was needed in the Sand.

 

He hadn’t heard much from Temari and her brothers over the past few months.  Without the chunin exams to require constant contact, their focuses had returned to their own villages.  Shikamaru spent time on ordinary missions and training with his teammates, keeping one ear open to the whispers about dangerous rogue ninja and Jiraiya’s movements.  A three-year deadline was approaching, and the anticipation of something important was stirring the tranquility.

 

Everything culminated with Lady Tsunade asking him to run the next chunin exam.  Apparently he had left a favorable enough impression from the last exams that the other villages didn’t mind the Leaf hosting yet again.  His gut reaction had been to refuse because all of the work involved would be a huge drag, but a lot of people were depending on him to represent the village favorably.  The work might help distract him from the absence of certain loud blondes in his life. For some reason, he found himself wondering when he’d hear from Naruto or Temari more frequently as time passed.

 

Being in charge of the chunin exam actually helped shorten some of that wait.  As official ambassador to the Leaf, Temari often sent letters and stopped in the village to arrange the Sand genins’ participation and, whether he asked for it or not, offer advice and suggestions.  Reconnecting with her was surprisingly relieving, even though her letters and presence demanded he pay attention to his work as proctor. That was simply a fact of Temari; she demanded everything from him.  He was always on his toes around her, and her visits left him feeling drained in a way his normal shinobi work rarely did.

 

During one of her visits, his second wait came to an end.  Naruto finally returned to the village. Shikamaru was satisfied with his growth and pleased he was just as knuckleheaded as he had ever been.  Somehow the Leaf hadn’t felt right without him in it. Despite Naruto being a nucleus of chaos, it was easier to relax when he was around.

 

That had been about a month ago.  True to form, Naruto had barely been in the village long enough to unpack before he was off chasing danger.  When he heard that the Kazekage was kidnapped, Shikamaru had wanted to follow and lend his aid to Naruto and their allies in the Sand, but he couldn’t.  His chunin exam responsibilities required his presence in the village. It was the first time he was frustrated about not getting assigned a mission. But he had faith in Naruto and Temari and her brothers.  He trusted Neji and his team to be the backup he couldn’t be.

 

So he had waited a month until he finally had an excuse to go to the Sand himself.  Naruto and their friends had already returned with reassurances that the Sand and the Kazekage were now safe.  The details of their report, though, did little to erase Shikamaru’s unease. Both Gaara and Kankuro had nearly died, and there had been numerous casualties when the great protective wall surrounding the village was partially blown up.  How had rogue ninja managed to inflict so much damage? Perhaps the security they had seized in the previous chunin exam had been little more than a facade.

 

Maybe that’s why he felt the need to go to the Sand so strongly.  It was as though his part in the chunin exam was somehow unfinished.  He hated having to do things, but he hated leaving something incomplete almost as much.  He needed to confirm that the Sand was safe again and the Kazekage was no longer in danger.  He wanted reassurance that they really had managed to eliminate Gaara’s opposition in the Sand.

 

After two days of nearly constant travel, he was finally within sight of the village.  The Sand rose from a flat expanse of desert tucked below surrounding dunes. Normally the great wall would hug it in a protective ring, giving mere glimpses of the tallest of the village’s buildings, but a dramatic wedge gaped where the sliver of an entrance used to be.  The inner buildings looked exposed and made Shikamaru feel uneasy.

 

When he got close enough to see the shinobi and craftsmen swarming over the wall as they worked on repairs, he finally slowed to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his forehead.  He stopped when a few jonin broke away from the group to investigate who he was and why he was here. He had visited the village enough times to be recognizable, so it only took a moment to be given the all clear.  He liked this efficiency. They told him where he would likely find the Kazekage, and he made his way towards what was left of the entrance. As he was figuring out the best way to dodge the piles of rubble and supplies without hindering the workers or endangering himself, he caught sight of something familiar that made him abruptly change direction.

 

“Temari!”

 

She turned, a look of surprise on her face.  He had almost missed her in the shadow of the wall where she was reviewing repair plans with a couple of builders.  He thought she was crazy for wearing black in the desert. It had helped her blend in to the deep shadows of the wall, but he had managed to identify her distinctive pigtails from just a glance.

 

“Shikamaru,” she greeted. “We weren’t expecting you for another two days.”

 

“I made good time.”

 

She studied him with her teal eyes.  He noticed that they looked more green out of the bright sunlight, but he still felt like she was seeing past his words and reading some of his inner thoughts.  It was unsettling, but she didn’t say anything.

 

“How are you?” he asked in an attempt to escape her scrutiny.

 

“Everything’s fine.”  She waved a hand to dismiss the builders, but he got the sense that she was dismissing his question, too.  “The debris is cleared. Repairs are underway. The dead are buried. The wounded are healing. Kankuro is keeping Gaara on a short leash, otherwise he’d be here helping, but we want to be sure there aren’t any other double agents looking to take advantage of this situation.”

 

“Temari,” Shikamaru interrupted, “I’m not asking about any of that.  I’m asking about  _ you _ .”

 

She gave him the briefest of glances before looking away.  Even obscured by the dim shadows, he knew he hadn’t missed that look in her eyes.  It was something akin to fear. Even if he hadn’t seen it, he heard it in the thickness of her voice when she said, “I’m fine.”

 

His own eyes narrowed.  She was lying to him, and that was annoying.  Not that it should be. This wasn’t threatening the well-being of their villages’ alliance.  If she didn’t want to talk about how she was doing with a foreign shinobi, it wasn’t his business.  Except the fact that he could tell she was lying changed things somehow. He usually didn’t bother trying to figure people out, but he still knew her well enough to know she wasn’t “fine”.  Maybe they weren’t just allies. Maybe they were friends.

 

If he were talking to Chouji or Ino or Naruto, what would he do?

 

“Come on.”  Shikamaru turned and started walking away from the village.  He  _ should _ be heading to the Kazekage’s office to drop off the message from the Hokage, not taking a detour.  But technically the news wasn’t urgent enough to require immediate delivery, and they hadn’t expected him this early anyway.  He could afford a few minutes to talk.

 

The fact that Temari didn’t protest as she followed him confirmed that something was wrong.  She had a strong sense of duty and didn’t waste time on personal matters when doing shinobi work.  Her ability to compartmentalize her life was usually a strength, but he wondered whether it might be contributing to her current unhappiness.

 

They walked in silence along the outer wall until the sounds of repair work faded and the sand and hot desert sun spread in a golden expanse around them.  Satisfied that they were alone--he knew she wouldn’t open up otherwise--Shikamaru stopped and turned to her.

 

“What is it?”

 

He tried to meet her eyes, but she was looking away, squinting out at the sand dunes whose edges rippled with heat.

 

“I told you, I’m fine,” she mumbled, but she was squeezing her arms tightly as though trying to look smaller and escape his inquiries.  It was so unlike her usual proud, bold, confident self, it only further aggravated him.

 

“Stop lying!” he commanded with more force than he had intended.  It did succeed in getting her to look at him, teal eyes wide in shock, but a moment later they were swimming in unshed tears.

 

_ Oh crap _ .  He could imagine the berating he’d receive from his mother and Ino if they were here to witness how untactful and inconsiderate he was.  He had intended to make her feel better, not make her cry!

 

Temari bowed her head and hugged herself tightly.  He thought he could see her shoulders shaking with the effort of holding herself together.  He felt frozen, at a total loss for how to react. Should he hug her? Would she want that? Would he simply make things worse?  He should have stuck to his mission. Naruto might find ways to ignore the rules and still come out on top, but every time Shikamaru ignored the plan, things went south.  He had to figure out how to make this better fast. But what could he possibly say without making things worse?

 

He was still trying to figure out how to apologize when she finally spoke.

 

“They almost died,” she whispered in a voice so quiet and fragile it didn’t sound like her.  “Kankuro and Gaara, my brothers… I wasn’t here, and they almost died. I couldn’t save them.”

 

“You just said yourself that they’re both fine.  Temari, you don’t have to worry about them.”

 

“You don’t get it.  I was useless! They would have died, and I couldn’t have saved them!”

 

She looked at him then, and there were tears running down her cheeks.  Her eyes were deep and pained, but there was a fierceness to her emotions that was undeniably Temari.  He could see her anger and being so emotional, but she also refused to deny the tears. He had a newfound respect for this strong kunoichi who was brave enough to face her vulnerability.

 

“You did what you could,” he soothed.

 

“Which was nothing!” she hissed, taking a deep and shaky breath.  “I’m their big sister. I’m supposed to protect them, and I wasn’t here when they needed me.”

 

“You can’t be expected to do everything, Temari.  You’re just one shinobi. Gaara’s the Kazekage, and Kankuro is an elite puppet master.  They don’t need you to babysit them anymore.”

 

“But they’re everything I have!” she cried, voice cracking.  She couldn’t hold it back anymore. She closed her eyes and cried, pressing her hands to her mouth to stifle the sobs.  Shikamaru felt something intangible inside him swell uncomfortably, and without thinking he pulled her into a hug.

 

He didn’t let himself think about how it felt to hold her and let her muffle her sobs with his shoulder.  The most they had ever touched had been the occasional accidental bump as they passed each other or the brush of their hands when they reached for the same piece of paper.  He was vaguely aware of the warm, spicy smell of her skin and the soft tickle of her hair against the side of his face, but he focused instead on the feel of her body shuddering against her tears and the uneven breaths against his chest.  He concentrated on keeping his hold steady and breaths even to be an anchor for her as emotions shook her.

 

He didn’t know what she was feeling, but he tried to understand it.  He remembered the way Temari and her brothers worked together while teasing each other, the way they depended on each other for missions and chores,  and the way they communicated without words. He thought about the way she watched her brothers and listened to them, respecting their abilities while watching their backs.  She had nearly lost all of that. They were the only family she had, and from what he could tell, they might be her only friends, too. Could he imagine what it would mean to lose everything?

 

He remembered standing outside the Leaf hospital’s operating room, unsure whether Chouji would live, feeling responsible for putting his best friend in that position.  He recalled the ache of waiting to hear whether Neji, Kiba, Akamaru, and Naruto would be okay. He felt the frustration of being utterly helpless because there was nothing he could do to ensure they survived.  He remembered crying. It wasn’t quite the same because he still would have had his parents, Asuma, and Ino, but he thought it might be a close equivalent to what Temari had gone through. He hugged her tighter.

 

“You’re wrong, Temari,” he said softly, so softly he worried she wouldn’t hear him.  “You weren’t useless. Just because you didn’t know enough medical ninjutsu to heal Kankuro and couldn’t stop the Akatsuki from taking Gaara doesn’t mean you didn’t save them.”

 

“But Sakura and Naruto-”

 

“Were only there because of the alliance between our villages, an alliance you helped to build.  When one village can’t solve a problem, its allies step in to help. So what if you didn’t have the exact skills needed for this mission?  You brought the people who did. You did what you could. No one expects a single shinobi to have all of the answers; that’s why we work best on teams built to complement each other.  You don’t have to shoulder everything alone. Your brothers know that, and they know you did everything you could, and it was enough.”

 

Her sobs had quieted.  He could tell she was listening and trying to understand what he was saying.  Honestly, he wasn’t quite sure what he was saying, either. He just knew he didn’t want her to hurt like this.  He waited for her counterargument, but none came. Instead she pulled away and wiped her eyes.

 

“And here I thought  _ you _ were the crybaby,” Temari chuckled.  Her voice was steady, and the sound of her laugh reassured him that she was alright, at least for now.

 

“Thank you, Shikamaru.”

 

Suddenly he was confronted by her eyes, swept away by the clear teal of her gaze.  He was glad to see the fear and sadness were gone. Only the ruddiness of her cheeks and slightly puffy skin indicated she had been crying, and that could be explained away as exposure to the sun and sand.  Her expression was soft and warm, and Shikamaru was drawn to it. He wanted to get closer, to wrap his arms around her again and get lost in the expanse of her eyes.

 

Luckily, before he could make a fool of himself, she put on the proud, fierce expression she usually wore.

 

“If you tell anyone about this, I will personally end you.”

 

“The thought never even crossed my mind!” he promised, holding his hands up in surrender.  She smirked, and there it was, the cruel glint in her eyes that promised trouble for him if he didn’t stay on his toes.  Once again, she was demanding everything from him. It was just a fact of Temari.


	5. Lessons Learned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tragedy echoes in the halls of the Nara home. Temari isn't sure what she can do about it, but she knows she's going to try and make it better anyway.
> 
> Inspired by ShikaTema Week 2019 Day 4: Tutoring, and Writer's Month 2019 Day 2: Hurt/Comfort.

“Temari.”  Yoshino blinked in surprise.  This had been an unexpected trip to the Leaf, but Temari had still made time to visit the Naras.  If she was being honest, her main motive for coming was this unofficial social visit.

 

When the Kazekage’s office received the report detailing the Leaf’s plan to lure out and take down the Akatsuki agents, they had debated whether to send Sand shinobi for support for a long time.  With Gaara’s abduction still fresh in her memory, Temari had been eager to repay the Leaf for their help, but there was a risk that mobilizing their own shinobi would alert the Akatsuki of the plan and actually undermine the Leaf’s efforts.  So they had waited for a direct request of aid instead.

 

The next they heard from their allies in the Land of Fire, the strike plan was over.  Two Akatsuki were eliminated, and only one Leaf shinobi lost his life, which, all things considered, was pretty remarkable.  When she heard the name of the casualty, though, she knew it had been a high, high price for success.

 

Temari hesitated a moment before stepping into Yoshino’s arms when she offered a hug.  She and her siblings rarely showed this level of affection, but she had realized since Shikamaru’s visit to the Sand after Gaara’s abduction that she would maybe like more of these kinds of interactions.  Kankuro was responsive to physical contact and often found excuses to exchange fistbumps or throw his arm across her shoulders. Gaara was much more conscious of personal boundaries and rarely attempted anything beyond a handshake.  It was just another aspect of human interaction he was trying to figure out.

 

Hugging Yoshino wasn’t quite as comfortable as hugging Shikamaru, but there was a familiar pleasantness that made her remember her mother’s embrace.  She hadn’t been lucky enough to know her mother for very long, so she let herself hug the Nara matron for as long as possible to pretend she hadn’t been deprived of such comforts.

 

But this visit wasn’t for herself.  She had come to pay respects and offer comfort if she could.

 

Pulling away from the warmth of the hug, Temari was highly aware of the stillness inside the house.  The silence was heavier than usual, sad and uncomfortable. It weighed down the normally welcoming home.  She was almost afraid to step further inside and disturb the uneasy tranquility.

 

“How are you?”

 

“Fine.”  She slipped out of her sandals and padded down the hall towards the kitchen.  “Things have settled down for the most part. Repairs are nearly finished. I can’t really ask for much more than that.”  She shrugged. “How are you?”

 

“We’re managing,.” Yoshino sighed as she began boiling water for tea, “some of us better than others.  I’m glad the chunin exams were over before all of this. I don’t know if Shikamaru would have kept up with the workload after Asuma…”  Her hands clenched on the countertop. The next moment she was breathing out slowly and relaxing her hands. Temari wondered if now was a suitable time to offer comfort, but she wasn’t sure how to best go about doing so.

 

“Don’t worry,” Yoshino smiled, reaching out to squeeze Temari’s arm reassuringly as though  _ she _ were the one who needed comfort.  “It’s been better than I expected. Other than running off to get revenge without the Hokage’s permission, he’s been pretty mellow about it.”

 

“I wasn’t worried necessarily.”  She felt warm suddenly. Yoshino gave her a knowing smile and turned to begin steeping three mugs of tea.

 

“Shikamaru has a tendency to think about things more than the average person.  Sometimes he needs to be pulled out of his head and reminded to act or see the things right in front of him.  Asuma was good at that. I think you’re good at that, too.” She discarded the spent tea leaves and handed two of the mugs to Temari.  “He’s on the roof.”

 

Temari accepted the tea and the implied mission, though she wasn’t sure exactly what Yoshino was expecting from her.  She simply wanted to make sure he was okay and offer what comfort she could.

 

She slid out of the dining room door.  Yoshino closed it behind her to keep out the cool fall air.  Temari took a moment to gather herself alone on the porch. The woods hovered a few yards away, somber and still, as though waiting to see what she was going to do.  What  _ was _ she going to do?

 

A slight movement caught her eye.  Peering into the forest shadows, her eyes met those of a deer, a young buck with his second year of antlers.  He had lowered his head a little to get a better look at her. Instinctually, Temari didn’t move. There was a keen intelligence in those large brown eyes that she’d rarely seen in another being, let alone an animal.  It was studying her, but rather than be put off by it, she wondered what it must think of her. What standards was it weighing her against?

 

It blinked, and then it disappeared into the woods.  Part of her wanted to follow it, but the tea in her hands was cooling, and there was someone she needed to talk to.

 

There was no ladder propped against the side of the house, but there were footprints on the lip of the rain barrel and the top edge of the lean-to shed next to it.  It would be tricky making the jumps with her hands full, but she wasn’t interested in looking for a ladder. Trusting her chakra control and balance, she launched herself up the makeshift steps and (somehow) managed to safely land on the roof without spilling either mug.

 

The roofing tile had been warmed enough by the sun not to shock her bare feet.  She took a moment to get her bearings and adjust to the easy slope beneath her feet.  Shikamaru wasn’t on this side of the roof. She wasn’t surprised. If he had come up here to be alone, he’d try and make a little space between himself and any unwanted visitors.  She suspected he might be on the other side around the corner, so she began picking her way along the roof, dodging the handful of dried leaves which had been caught between the tiles.  The sun was softer than it was in the summer, but it caressed her skin with comfortable warmth. She had been told it had been a mild fall so far. She hoped that would promise a mild winter, too.

 

Her hunch had been correct.  She found Shikamaru as she carefully stepped around the corner.  He was lying on his back, one arm tucked behind his head while the other absentmindedly flicked a battered silver lighter open and shut.  He was wearing black. She wondered if it had been a conscious choice to indicate mourning or had simply been a convenient outfit. At least he looked healthy.

 

“If you keep hanging out on roofs all day, you’ll get sunburned.”

 

“Temari.”  He sat up quickly, surprised.  The lighter disappeared into his pocket.  His expression became carefully neutral as he studied her.  “What are you doing here?”

 

“Right now, delivering tea from your mother.”  She handed him one of the mugs and carefully sat beside him.

 

“Thank you,” he said, accepting the delivery.  “But really, why are you here? I hadn’t heard of any expected diplomatic visit.”

 

“It was a last-minute decision.  We needed to exchange some information about the Akatsuki, and I volunteered to play the messenger.”

 

“Oh.”  His brow darkened, but he looked more thoughtful than angry.  Yoshino was right. He really did think things over a lot.

 

“I was sorry to hear about your sensei,” she said softly.  She began reaching for his shoulder, but he turned away from her slightly.  Temari drew her hand back and tried to read his body language, but all she could see was a sliver of his cheek and most of his back.  She debated reaching out to him anyway, but if he had turned away like this, he probably didn’t want to share right now. She would wait.

 

“Thanks,” Shikamaru sighed eventually, releasing tension in his shoulders and back that she hadn’t noticed before.  He gulped down more of his tea--it had cooled enough to be gulped--and then returned to the position she had found him in, reclining with an arm behind his head.  His other hand was in his pocket, probably gripping the lighter. She remembered that Asuma had been a smoker.

 

“How are you doing?” she asked.

 

“Fine.”

 

“Shikamaru.”

 

He looked at her, expression unreadable.

 

“I thought we were close enough to owe each other honesty.”

 

She watched his eyes search her face.  She wondered what he was looking for. His expression relaxed, softening as he looked back at the sky where a few thin clouds hovered in the upper atmosphere.

 

“I am not fine,” he confessed softly, “but I am better.”

 

“What happened?” she asked gently.

 

Shikamaru told her.  He explained their plan to lure out the Akatsuki to lessen the threat to Naruto and other jinchuriki.  He told her about their encounter with Hidan and Kakuzu and the sacrifice Asuma had made. He admitted he hadn’t gone to the funeral and ignored his duties for several days.  He described the plan he had made and how Ino and Chouji hadn’t needed to be asked because they were on the same page. He told her that he had taken his revenge in the most cold-hearted way possible, dismembering and burying Hidan on his land to hold him prisoner for eternity.  He told her he had been a little afraid of himself afterwards, and he still woke up sometimes shocked by what he was capable of.

 

“I have started to make my peace with it,” he murmured.  “I visited his grave for the first time yesterday. It felt wrong to be addressing a gravestone instead of him, but I’ll get used to it.”

 

“Eventually,” she agreed.

 

She had asked for honesty, and Shikamaru had given it.  Unguarded and unrushed, he had opened up, and she had listened without judgment.  More than anything, Temari wanted to understand him, and, to her surprise, he seemed willing to let her.  Rarely did she have such conversations like this. It was a bit frightening, but it was also refreshing to be so comfortable with someone else.

 

He glanced at her and studied her face again.

 

“What?” she asked as he turned back to the clouds.

 

“You’re being unusually quiet.”

 

“It’s rude to interrupt people when they’re talking, and you’re being unusually talkative.”

 

The corner of his mouth twitched.  It was the closest he had gotten to smiling all afternoon, and it was satisfying to know she could still tease him without him falling apart.  He really was grieving well.

 

The sun had started to lower, but there were still a few hours before sunset.  Setting aside her now empty mug, Temari decided to copy Shikamaru’s preferred position of repose to try and figure out why he liked it so much.  She carefully reclined until she was lying back on the cooling roof tiles, tucking her hands behind her head. Shikamaru raised an eyebrow at her but made no comment.

 

Lying around doing nothing was another strange experience for Temari.  She was constantly moving from one task to another, rarely sitting still.  There was always something to do next, another mission to complete or another problem to solve.  Laziness was irresponsible, or so her father had taught her. She was of the Wind, and like the wind she was constantly moving and changing directions as needed to address whatever the village needed from her.  She was almost afraid to step out of the airstream in case she was left behind or things fell apart without her.

 

But maybe taking a break once in a while wasn’t so bad.  She had been thinking a lot about what Shikamaru had told her after Gaara’s rescue, that she didn’t need to shoulder everything by herself.  She had begun noticing the number of loyal shinobi in the Sand working every day for the benefit of the village. More and more people were believing in Gaara’s vision of the future, and the way they had rallied together to rebuild and stand by their Kazekage had eased a lot of her worries.  She didn’t have to obsess over her little brother’s safety, giving her the luxury to travel to the Leaf for a few days and address another person she was worried about.

 

She glanced over at Shikamaru.  He had pulled out the lighter again and was flicking it open and closed, open and closed, deep in thought.

 

“If you keep doing that you’ll likely break it,” she warned.  He flipped the lighter closed, wrapping it in his fist.

 

“If the village were a shogi game, what would be the king?”

 

“Hm?”  She adjusted her head so she could look at him comfortably without straining her neck.

 

“Each shogi piece has its abilities and its purpose, just like every person has a role within a village.  If you were to assign each role a shogi piece, what would be the king?”

 

“Is that a serious question?” she asked, a chuckle bubbling up inside her.  “It sounds like you play too much shogi.”

 

“Just-” he began, voice hard, hand clenching around the lighter.  It seemed to take conscious effort to relax and keep his voice mild.  “Please.”

 

The show of emotion surprised Temari and nullified her instinct to tease him.  This question meant something to him. It had probably meant something to Asuma as this was the most emotional she had seen him today.

 

“Okay,” she agreed softly.  If he needed an answer, she would take the question seriously.  “Just give me a moment to think about it.”

 

He grunted his assent.  Temari turned back to look at the sky while she turned over the options in her mind.  The king was the most important piece in shogi. Losing it meant losing the game. So if the village was a shogi game, what would spell the downfall of the village if it was lost?  Her first instinct was to say the Kage, but from her experience after Gaara’s abduction she knew the Kage were dispensable. The council was, too. There would always be someone else who would step up and unite the villagers.  The people were really what made the village, so maybe they were the king. But people come and go, live and die. What kept them together and united them under the banner of “village”?

 

She thought of the Sand and how the villagers had rallied together after Gaara’s abduction.  Their unity hadn’t been about Gaara himself but what he stood for. His vision of what the Sand could be and hopefully would be had brought them together, and even if they had lost him, that hope for the future would have spurred them on.

 

“The king…” she mused.  “It must be our vision of the future.  That’s what we’re all fighting for after all, isn’t it?”

 

“Not bad.”  A tired smile played on Shikamaru’s lips.  “The first time Asuma asked me, I said it was the Hokage.”

 

“That seemed too obvious.  You like to ask tricky questions.”

 

“I’d amend your answer a little, though.  It’s not just the future itself, but the future generations we have to work to protect.  After all, they’re the ones who will ultimately make the future.”

 

“That sounds awfully mature coming from you.”  She adjusted her position again so she could study his face.  “Did Asuma teach you that?”

 

“Yeah,” he said softly, flicking open the lighter and lighting the flame.  “It was one of the last things he taught me. He passed the responsibility for the future to me through the Will of Fire.  It’s my job to continue his work.”

 

“That’s a big responsibility.  Are you sure you’re up for it?”

 

He closed the lighter, snuffing out the flame.  Shikamaru studied the sky for a moment, turning the question over in his mind.

 

“Honestly,” he eventually sighed, “I’m not even sure where to start.  But I’m going to have to figure it out quickly. It’ll only be a handful of months before Asuma’s child is born, and he entrusted its training and safety to me.”

 

“He was going to be a father?”  She hadn’t known he was in a relationship.  But there had never been a reason for Temari to get to know Asuma personally.

 

“Yeah.”  Shikamaru sighed.  The silence settled heavily around them.  The sun had sunk low enough for the light to cast deep shadows across his face.  He looked deeply tired and, Temari thought, unsure of himself. He wanted to do right by his sensei, but he was barely more than a child himself.  How could he teach and protect the future generations when he hadn’t figured out his own future?

 

He thought too much.  Temari knew that action and instinct were a huge help in navigating uncertainties.  If he could let his mind rest once in a while, she was sure he would figure things out as he went.

 

“Hey,” she said, letting her own instincts lead her as she scooted closer and reached for his hand.  He looked surprised when she wrapped her fingers around his, the lighter he was holding pressed between their palms, but it was warm and comfortable and comforting.  “You’ll figure it out,” she promised.

 

Shikamaru searched her eyes.  She saw his grief and fear, his anger that was still fading, and his deep fatigue.  This experience had aged his soul, forcibly burning away the youthful laziness and thrusting him into a world of adult problems.  Temari understood how that felt. She had had to navigate that transition herself. She’d make sure Shikamaru didn’t do it alone.

 

“I’ll be here,” she promised in a whisper, hoping he understood what she meant.  He blinked, and it was like watching the sky clear after a rainstorm.

 

Shikamaru squeezed her hand as he turned back to watching the clouds.  It made Temari feel warm and pleased. She watched him a moment longer, and the knowledge that he would be okay settled deep within her like a truth.  Content, she followed his gaze to the sky so they could watch the sunset paint the clouds in companionable silence.


	6. Complicate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a few months since Shikamaru and Temari have heard from each other. Ino and Chouji think it's time something is done about that.
> 
> Written for Writer's Month 2019 Day 13: Feelings.

“Have you heard from Temari?  When’s she stopping by next?” Ino asked while they were taking a break from training.

 

“How should I know?  Go ask the Hokage’s office,” Shikamaru grumbled.  She rolled her eyes and stretched out her back.

 

“You’re usually the one who tells the Hokage’s office when we can expect her.”

 

“Only because I coincidentally open her letters in the correspondence office, along with a quarter of the deliveries from the other villages and some mission reports.”

 

“I thought you two were always writing each other,” Chouji hummed, taking a gulp of water.

 

“Only if the Leaf has business with the Sand.  Otherwise no, I don’t write to her socially. What would be the point?”  Not that he hadn’t entertained the idea. It had been a few months since they’d seen each other, and while it wasn’t the longest they’d been out of contact, it had felt strange.  At some unforeseen moment they’d crossed the threshold from formality to familiarity, and he’d catch himself wondering how she was and what she was doing.

 

“You’re friends, right?” Ino pressed.  Shikamaru had caught himself asking that a few times, too.  They couldn’t really be just coworkers at this point, but he also wouldn’t categorize her with Ino and Chouji and Naruto.  Temari was something different and undefined. Until he could articulate what, though, “friend” would have to do.

 

“I guess,” he said, shrugging.

 

“Then invite her over.”

 

“Why?”

 

“She promised to help me with my hand-to-hand combat.”

 

“So what do you call what we’re doing?” Chouji demanded somewhere between offended and amused.

 

“Inoshikacho training isn’t the same.  What if we’re separated on the battlefield?  I need to up my combat game.”

 

“And you can’t find someone in the village to help you with that?”  Shikamaru asked.

 

“Everyone’s either busy, lazy, or would utterly crush me in a second.”  She crossed her arms and looked at them like this fact should be obvious.

 

“And you think Temari’s a better option?” he chuckled.  “Have you forgotten what she did to Tenten during the first chunin exam?  I’ve seen her when she’s teaching. She’s just as ruthless. You’d get torn apart.”

 

“Gee, thanks for your vote of confidence.  Glad to know I can always count on your support.”

 

“I think you’d be fine, Ino,” Chouji declared.

 

“Thank you.  I’m glad  _ someone _ believes in me.”

 

“If it were anyone else, my money would be on you,” Shikamaru promised.  He knew he shouldn’t feel proud that Temari would win against Ino--after all, that was admitting a shinobi from another village would beat one of his best friends--but it was the truth.  (But why was he siding with Temari?)

 

“It’s not a fight; it’s training.  I might as well learn from the best, right?”

 

“Then  _ you _ invite her.”

 

“But  _ you’re _ her friend.  It would be weird if I suddenly ask her over to train.  I don’t know her as well as you do.”

 

“And me asking her to come to the Leaf just to help you train wouldn’t be weird?”

 

“No, because it wouldn’t  _ just _ be to train me.  You two would hang out and do whatever else you do when you’re together.”

 

“We work.  Ours is a working relationship.  I’ve never asked her to the Leaf unless it was for work.  I can’t ask her to take time away from her duties in the Sand to come and hang out.”

 

“Why not?” Chouji asked.  “I mean, you said you were friends.  Friends take time off to hang out all of the time.”

 

He smiled because Chouji would drop anything in a second if a friend needed him.  But Chouji was one in a million. Shikamaru and Temari were cut from the same cloth.  Their sense of propriety and duty was strong. He wouldn’t leave the village for an unnecessary trip, not with all of this Akatsuki business and Kurenai’s pregnancy.

 

Unless, he realized, Temari asked him to.  Lately his missions to Suna  _ had _ felt more like excuses to go see her.  He hadn’t really noticed how attentive he was to business in the Land of Wind, but he knew almost every assignment and message that passed between their countries.  What did that mean? Why was he so interested in their alliance? Why did he no longer mind making the trip to the Sand?

 

If he asked Temari, would she feel the same?

 

“Besides,” Chouji continued, unaware of his friend’s inner questions, “if she comes for a visit, I can ask her more about that spicy soup she was telling me about last time.”

 

“Wow, and here I thought you were just being your usual friendly self.  You’re no better than Ino,” he teased.

 

“I am being friendly!” he pouted.  “Food is a common interest. It’s the best way to a person’s heart.”

 

“Your heart, maybe.”  He poked his pleasantly plump friend with his elbow.

 

“So are you going to invite her over or not?” Ino prompted.

 

Shikamaru thought it a little strange that his teammates were so eager to see Temari again.  They seemed genuinely interested in her. They’d only interacted a handful of times. Had the other two managed to become friends with the Sand kunoichi in such a short time?  And if  _ they  _ were already friends, then what were she and Shikamaru since they’d spent so much more time together?

 

Had they breached the realm of  _ good  _ friends?  He thought back to her crying against his shoulder, or the evening they’d spent on the roof after Asuma’s death.  When had they waded into the deeper emotional levels of this relationship? He couldn’t ignore that he didn’t feel the same way about her as he did Chouji and Ino and Naruto.  Did that mean she wasn’t yet at the level of a close friend? Or was she something else entirely?

 

These feelings were so confusing.  Trying to figure them out was a huge drag!

 

But he couldn’t deny that Temari had a great talent for helping him clarify things.  She wasn’t afraid to ask challenging questions. It was annoying, but it also saved him a lot of time ignoring or avoiding problems.  Often she could quiet his confusion. He could use that clarity now. He maybe even craved it.

 

“I’ll see if she’s not busy,” Shikamaru sighed, giving in.  It didn’t mean anything. He would just be inviting a friend over for a visit.  So why did he feel so nervous?

 

\-----

 

“Have you heard from Temari lately?  It’s been a while.”

 

Shikamaru groaned, letting his pen fall to the table next to a few discarded pages of scribbles.

 

“What, did Ino talk to you or something?”

 

“Hm?”  Yoshino looked up from the book she was reading.  “No. Why, did she say the same thing?”

 

“Yeah, when we were training earlier.  Both she and Chouji insisted I invite her to come visit.”

 

She blinked at him, then grinned.

 

“I guess that means you’ll have to ask her over.”

 

“I guess.  It’s going to be a real drag, though.”

 

“Hey!  Temari is lovely company!”

 

“That’s not what I meant!  It’s the paperwork and the optics.”

 

“What paperwork?  This is just a social visit, right?”

 

“Well yeah, but she’s still the Sand’s representative.  There’s lodging and security to figure out.”

 

“Nonsense.”  Yoshino waved her hand dismissively.  “She’ll stay here with us, and you’ll be her host and responsible for her safety.  It’s simple. Plus she’s a very capable kunoichi and can take care of herself.”

 

“I think you’re oversimplifying things, Mom.”

 

“I think you’re overcomplicating them.”

 

“You think the village leaders would allow an official representative from the Sand to stay with the Hokage’s advisor?  Wouldn’t that seem a bit suspicious?”

 

“They’d allow a friend to stay with a friend.”

 

“You can’t just ignore her and Dad’s political positions.”

 

“And why not?” she demanded.  “When you look at Temari, do you see the official ambassador to the Leaf?  Or do you see a beautiful and dangerous peer who you enjoy spending time with socially?”

 

That sounded like a trap.  She’d used the word “beautiful”.  While it was true about Temari, women were funny about whether a guy admitted it or not.  He screwed up his mouth in a frown. Yoshino just laughed.

 

“Invite her to spend a few days with us, or  _ I  _ will, and I’ll make sure she knows you were too cowardly to do it yourself.”

 

“I’m doing it!  Calm down,” he grumbled, pulling a new piece of paper towards himself.  Even though he was having difficulty figuring out exactly what to say--he didn’t want to be too formal but sounding too eager would be equally awkward--he knew whatever his mom would write would be infinitely more embarrassing.

 

\-----

 

“This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when you invited me over.”

 

“Well if I had known I wouldn’t have a home to invite you to, I would’ve told you not to bother with the trip.”

 

“Good to know.  I’ll keep that in mind when I rate your hospitality.”

 

Temari was keeping her tone light and joking, but she had been shocked and worried to arrive in the Leaf and find it missing.  All but the furthest properties were replaced by a giant crater of rock and rubble. The initial panic was tempered somewhat when she noticed crowds of people moving amongst the destruction, but she couldn’t shake the inner terror making her blood freeze in her veins.  She needed more information. She needed to know  _ he _ was okay.

 

Luckily she’d run into Ino at what used to be the village perimeter where she’d been reassured that despite the terrible state of the land, everyone had miraculously survived.  That should have been enough to calm the rest of her worry, but it wasn’t until she saw Shikamaru that she actually relaxed enough to process everything.

 

After the initial shock, she was somewhat disturbed by her reaction.  Since when had he become so closely tied to her feelings? He could affect them, sure, but Temari had never anticipated he could be the source of them.  What business did he have making her feel things without her permission?

 

She’d let him recount everything Ino had already told her and fill in the details.  Shikamaru anticipated her questions (when had he learned to do that?) and seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear.  It was soothing but unnerving. Even with her brothers, she rarely had conversations as easy as this.

 

“So,” she said in a low voice, “the Akatsuki.”

 

“Yeah.”  Shikamaru sighed and leaned back against a slab of concrete that used to be the foundation of his home.  The damage stopped about an acre in front of them, mowing down the first rows of forest trees. He’d been amused when she’d asked about the deer and reassured her that the herd had been far enough away to emerge from the ordeal unscathed.

 

Temari understood what had happened, but she was having difficulty really understanding that one person--or six people?--had done this.  The Akatsuki were stronger than they had suspected. They were more dangerous than they’d thought.

 

“That’s two villages that they’ve attacked openly.  They’re getting bold,” she observed.

 

“They’re escalating, which means they must be running out of time.”

 

“For what?” Temari demanded, but she knew neither of them could properly answer that question.  It was something they’d both been trying to work out for months.

 

“Whatever it is, they need the Tailed Beasts.”

 

“Which means they need the jinchuriki, including Naruto,” she finished.  Naruto, who had somehow saved Gaara and somehow saved everyone in the Leaf and somehow always saved the day.  Would anyone be able to save him if he needed it?

 

She watched Shikamaru’s face as its features stilled, his brows pulled down slightly in serious thought.  His hands drifted together in his lap, and his fingertips touched in a slightly relaxed iteration of the thinking position she remembered so clearly from their first chunin exam and countless times thereafter.  He had learned to think on his feet, but in moments of deep contemplation like now, his old habit would creep out. She wondered if he knew.

 

She wondered if he could sense how much she trusted him, so utterly and completely that it scared her because she trusted almost nobody like this, not even herself.  She knew unerringly that whatever problem his mind was unravelling, he would solve it given enough time and confidence. She loved to watch, to imagine what constellations he was drawing between the facts, to try and trace the twists and turns of his mind so that they’d meet up at the same conclusion.

 

When she was frustrated with some problem in the Sand that she couldn’t solve, she’d wonder how Shikamaru would look at it differently.  She hated how often it happened and was ashamed that she felt pulled toward him and the Leaf when she was so proud to be a Sand shinobi and support all that Gaara was doing.  But she couldn’t deny that she felt something akin to loyalty for this man thinking beside her. It had been growing over the past few years, and she feared that it might some day conflict with her other duties.

 

Temari shied away from thinking about that future.  There were more pressing matters right now. Her brothers needed to know what had happened, and the other villages ought to be notified, too.  She didn’t know how many Tailed Beasts were still out there, but the Akatsuki threat had become too big for anyone to ignore. They couldn’t all depend on Naruto to save the day.

 

“I should get back to my village,” she murmured.

 

“Listen, I know our facilities aren’t the greatest right now, but you’re still welcome to stay the night.”  He was smiling wryly, but she glimpsed something like regret in his dark eyes. She wanted to say yes, to waste what was left of the day with him because she hadn’t admitted to herself how much she’d been looking forward to this visit until she’d arrived and feared the worst, but she forced herself to shake her head and stand.

 

“Whatever comes after this is going to be big, and we need to be ready for it.  I have a feeling time isn’t a luxury right now.”

 

He nodded, understanding, and a little part of her was disappointed he didn’t insist she stay the night.  Instead he led her back through the destroyed village. They walked past people who were tired and sad digging through the rubble of their homes and memories.  But they were also strong and determined to rebuild. It made her think of Shikamaru and the Will of Fire, and that was comforting even though it was confusing.

 

“Next time, things will be more in order around here, assuming no other earth-shattering events occur.”

 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

 

They looked at each other for a long moment.  Temari got the sense that he was trying to memorize her, afraid that this would be the last time they saw each other despite their optimistic promise.  She studied him, too: the arch of his eyebrows, the slant of his eyes, the angle of his nose, the line of his lips, the sculpt of his chin. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to study him with her fingers to add tactile memory to his visual profile, but instead she merely said, “Be safe.”

 

“You too,” he replied, and her ears pretended they’d heard his low voice catch a little in his throat.  But when neither of them made any further movement, Temari turned away along the path she had taken just that morning, carrying her hopes with her.


End file.
